Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: orson@bluemoon.rn.com (Craig Smith) Subject: Corky concludes Message-ID: Date: Wed, 20 May 92 19:57:36 EDT Corky concludes his history: "At first, I feared the Merchant. A few months later, I hated him. He worked me harder than I had ever worked before, and mind you, my father was not easy on me--we ALL had to help in the tavern. But, I did eat well, had my own room, and he provided me with clothes. After a season, I began to wonder what I would do when the three seasons were over. But I didn't dare let it show. Anyone who could afford to hire a mage to do a mind-read spell and place a permanent ethereal-watcher on me may have other things I didn't know about. "Shortly after the second season was over, however, he asked me if I would like to accompany him on his trip east. He ASKED! I had been no farther than ten blocks from this shop since last season. I said yes, of course. And he smiled--the first kind look he had ever given me. "I remember little of the trip, interestingly. I spent the first two days trying to figure out the change in him. On the third day he noticed this, and asked what I was thinking about. So I told him. He chuckled. 'You begin to show promise.' was all that he said. We arrived back from the trip three months later. It wasn't until recently that I realized that I never left his side during the entire trip; not because he made me, but because I wanted to be with him. By the end of the trip, I had made up my mind--if he offered me a position after the three seasons, I would accept. "I worked harder than ever after that, since I wanted to make sure that he offered the position to me. Finally, the three season were over. I remember when one of his employees called me and told me that I was to come to the Merchant's room. "I knocked and he said 'Enter.' I opened the door and he was looking out the window. I closed the door behind me. 'Well, Corky,' he said, 'I've thought it over and I have decided to let you go.' "My heart hit the floor. 'B-b-but sirrah!' I tried to say. "'No,' he said. 'It just isn't going to work out. Take what you have and go.' "I didn't move--I couldn't. He turned and saw me. 'Still here? I said leave.' "'Sirrah,' I said. 'I don't want to leave. What do I have to do in order to stay? Where have I failed?' "'Are you sure you don't want to leave?' he said. "'Sirrah, I came to you with less than nothing. All I have, I owe to you. Don't send me back there.' "He turned and smiled. 'Will you obey me? Even without the spell?' "'Sirrah,' I looked down, 'I've known for several months that such a spell is far too costly for even you to afford. I haven't stolen or lied or cheated because I knew it would hurt you, and for no other reason.' "He sighed and sat down. 'Corky, I had been told by a witch that a thief would inherit my house. Being without children, I thought she meant that I would have everything stolen from me. I spent a good portion of my earnings on the spells that caught you, out of fear that it was true. When I had you "read" and found out your life story, I knew you were the thief she meant. I also realized that I had misunderstood the witches words. I'm sorry I treated you so badly at first, but I had to be sure. Can you forgive me?' "'Sirrah? There is nothing to be forgiven. I tried to steal something, and you could have had me killed. Frankly, sirrah, no one has been so good to me since my father.' "He turned away from me. He said nothing for a long time. Then, 'Your father is well. I had a message sent to him. He sent one back.' "'What? You got a message from my father?! May I see it?' "He removed a folded parchment from inside his jacket and gave it to me without looking." Corky removed a parchment from inside his _own_ jacket. "This was the message: "'Honorable Baron Vescue, 'I thank you for the extreme kindness you showed in taking my son into your house. I feared he may meet a terrible fate once he left, and I am saddened, but not surprised, regarding the circumstances of his meeting you. Please, if you can believe the word of his father, he is a hard-working boy. I can only attribute his ways to grief sur- rounding the death of his mother. "'I am comforted to know how well he is being taken care of, and am grateful for the training you are giving him. Do not hesitate to do whatever you feel is proper to raise him. "'With regard to the death sentence on him, I am sorry to report that it has not been lifted, and is not likely to be lifted for many years as the guard he killed was the nephew of the Duke Moldrin, who is not know for softening his stand on anything.' "'Let my son know that I wish him well, and that I will always remember him fondly. "'Regards, "'Corby Bumbkin, Esq.' Corky lovingly folded the parchment and placed it back in his jacket. "The Baron looked out the window. 'I know this Duke,' he said. 'And I might be able to influence him. . .' "'Sirrah,...uh, my Lord, if your asking if I want to go back to Andrylankha, the answer is 'no.' My father is well--that's all I need to know. Don't waste your time or money on my account.' "'Are you sure? You may never see you father again.' "I swallowed then. 'My Lord, I had already abandoned myself to that fate on the boat.' This was not entirely true, but it was true enough." Corky sighed. "There is little to tell after that. The Baron taught me everything I needed to continue the business. Not being a direct heir, and a halfling, I was unable to inherit his title, but on his deathbed he gave me all of his business holdings and property. I miss him dearly." Corky sighs. "Well, I have obviously bored you all with my story. I think it time to take my leave." He stands and faces T.S. wherever he is in the pub. "The rest of the bottle is yours, my friend. Enjoy." He heads for the door. "I had hoped to find some companionship and comraderie here, but I fear you all have found yours already, and do not wish mine. A pity." As he opens the door, he remarks, "Have a good life, my friends. For life is the only thing of which one can be sure. Not death, not taxes...life! Make it good!" With that he walks out of the pub into the night air. [ADMIN: Sorry folks, I have decided to bow out. Too many posts, too much lag time, not enough responses. The logistics are not worth it.] Craig E. Smith csmith@onetouch.COM Columbus, OH orson@bluemoon.rn.com "Life is a fulltime occupation."--Gene Kalman ...!uunet!onetouch!csmith "It's just one .sig after another."--me ///<<<{{{[[[(((*)))]]]}}}>>>\\\